"It can't be done, Lawler! There is no provision in the law under which we can force the railroad company to provide cars." Lawler laughed mirthlessly and got to his feet, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at the governor. For a time there was silence in the big room, during which the governor changed color several times, and drooped his eyes under Lawler's grimly humorous gaze. Then Lawler spoke: "All right, Haughton," he said; "I'll carry your message back to my friends at Willets. I'll also carry it to Lafe Renwick, of the _News_, here in the capital. We'll make it all plain enough, so that your position won't be misunderstood. The railroad company is not even a resident corporation, and yet you, as governor, refuse to act in the interests of the state cattle owners, against it--merely to force it to play fair. This will all make interesting conversation--and more interesting reading. My visit here has proved very interesting, and instructive. Good-day, sir." He strode out, leaving Haughton to glare after him. Ten minutes later he was in the editorial office of the _News_, detailing his conversation with Hatfield and the governor to a keen-eyed man of thirty-five, named Metcalf, who watched him intently as he spoke. At the conclusion of the visit the keen-eyed man grinned. "You've started something, Lawler," he said. "We've heard something of this, but we've been waiting to see just how general it was. You'll understand, now, why I was so eager to have you run last fall. You'll not escape so easily next time!" Late that night Lawler got off the train at Willets; and a few minutes later he was talking with Caldwell and the others in the Willets Hotel. "It's a frame-up, men," he told them. "Hatfield and the governor both subscribe to the same sentiments, which are to the effect that this is a free country--meaning that if you don't care to accept what the buyers offer you can drive your cattle out of the state or let them starve to death on the open range." The big hanging-lamp swinging from the ceiling of the lounging-room flickered a dull light into the faces of the men, revealing lines that had not been in them some hours before. Somehow, it had seemed to them, Lawler would straighten things out for them; they had faith in Lawler; they had trusted in his energy and in his mental keenness. And when they had sent him to the capital they had thought that the governor would not dare to refuse his request. He was too great a man to be trifled with. It was plain to them, now, that the invisible power which they had challenged was a gigantic thing--for it had not been impressed by their champion.